Under the Guise of Happiness Lies Your True Misery
by Emerald Eyed Dragon
Summary: 2x4, POV-4. part 2 up!. Quatre realizes the painful truth about Dou while braiding his hair. Warnings: only sap, and pain. reviews/criticism appreciated.
1. Part 1

That day he allowed me to engage in the ritual of braiding his hair. I mean absolutely no sarcasm in this. For Duo, his hair represented everything he loved, or had loved at some time, in his life; it represented the shred of beauty and dignity in the field of blood-saturated dirt. Duo's hair was Duo.  
After slipping into my room, donning only a towel with a brush tucked halfway into it, he sat almost shyly on my bed, fiddling with a strand of wet hair. "Hey, Quat. Would you.umm.." I knew what he was trying to say, so I grinned at him and nodded. By Allah, he looked so innocent, so naïve, so vulnerable, right then. It made me want to cry, that this tough orphan, this battle-hardened soldier, this God of Death- he.he needed me. I'm not saying I didn't love him, not by any means would I say that, but I simply loved Duo; Duo needed someone to love, and someone to love him back. Me.  
"Sure."  
Duo sighed, clearly relieved that I had understood and agreed. I ran my fingers through the wet strands of hair; the cool dripping water was refreshing, despite the fact that every few inches my hands got snagged by knots. He opened his mouth as he pulled the black brush from his slender waist, probably thinking about saying something clever, like "Draw!" He decided against it.  
As much as I tried to suppress it, I quietly laughed aloud. He looked behind him, and up at me, violet eyes reflecting his confusion of emotions. Curious. Hurt. Understanding. Relieved. Joking. After holding a knowing grin for a brief moment, Duo turned his head halfway back to facing forwards, allowing me to admire his left side profile. He looked wise, and his face could have been a samurai's, with the wind blowing in his face as he surveyed his old village upon his return from years of fighting, death and war.  
I pried deeper into his one visible violet eye. Yes, he looked wise, yet he also looked sad. Truly sad. Only at that moment did I ever know what it meant to hurt, and also what it meant to love. The pain of loss was radiating off him in strong waves, and though I hadn't suffered anywhere near his ocean of hurt, I knew exactly how he felt. Every laugh was a lie, every joke a façade, every smile a mask. I think maybe Duo Maxwell has more honor than even Wufei. Duo honors himself, as well as all of those he loves.loved. Duo wants no pity, just honest love. Looking at my valiant soldier, and explosion of guilt sent waves of near-nausea crashing over my entire body. That face.that person.that pain.  
For reasons I don't know, I smiled at the profile of Duo Maxwell. I suppose I did so because I loved him, which makes even less sense than not knowing why I did it. He abruptly returned to his charade, turning back towards me again. "You gonna get started or what?"  
".uh.yeah," I tried to say, but it came out quiet and forced. "Sore throat, ne?" he asked in a tone that suggested that we were simply friends, and somewhat distant ones at that, and then grinned. I would have been fine if I hadn't seen him desperately searching in my eyes as he smiled. Looking for my approval, my friendship, my love, my need for him. But I had.  
I fell weakly into his arms, tears streaming down my face, whispering, "Oh Duo. Oh, Duo," repeatedly. He quickly, and skillfully, turned around, slightly repositioning me, so he could properly hold me in a tight embrace. His arms went under mine, hands resting on my upper back. My arms went around his neck, tight enough that I could have held my elbows with the opposite hands. I buried my head between my left arm and his warm neck. He held me, silently sobbing, for a long time.  
Eventually I looked up, expecting to have to explain my emotional outburst to the person I would have least wanted to explain it to. Looking upon his face, I was immediately relieved. The still-falling tears, telltale red eyes and his helpless expression on his beautiful face showed me that he already knew. After I met his eyes, we both took a deep breath and laughed nervously. While still partially chuckling, Duo stepped back from me and whipped his left eye on his upper left arm, and than the opposite for his right eye, making the motion look almost like a shrug. I tried not to, but I started to smile again, which released a few fresh tears from my eyes. He looked at me gravely, stepped forward, close enough that I felt the warmth emanating from his bare chest. He gently took my face in his hands, turned it slightly upwards so we were looking into each other's eyes, and wiped away my tears with his thumbs. "No, it's really okay, Quat. I mean-"  
I interrupted him by smiling and placing my right forefinger on his lips. I blinked, and then gazed up into his gorgeous eyes for an eternity. I never wanted that moment to end. Life had never made more sense than it had right then. He kissed my finger gently, broke eye contact and slowly walked out of my room. As he left, I saw the shimmer of a new tear, and I hope and pray to Allah that that one was different. 


	2. Part 2

I stood there, neither shocked nor angry in the slightest. He needed to go and have time to himself. He needed himself.  
"Oh my Duo," I whispered, "may Allah - God - look kindly on and protect your soul."  
They were simple words, yet they comforted me. I knew, or at least thought I knew, that for now Duo Maxwell would be all right. Smiling, I picked up the brush that lay forgotten on the beige carpet. Just then I remembered that I hadn't braided his hair.  
As much as he needed his space, Duo still wouldn't want a frizz ball. Or at least that's how I justified my decision to walk over to his room and return the brush. Seeing as I like to be as well prepared as I can be, I ran through a few different approaches mentally: 'Smiling cheerily, "Whoops! You left this back in my room. Silly you!"' - yeah right. 'Reassuringly gazing into his eyes, "You - you left this."' Not to my surprise in the slightest, I didn't yet know how to approach Duo when I got to his door.  
Taking a deep breath, I knocked. A solemn-faced Duo almost immediately appeared. At a complete loss for words, I simply raised the brush. He took it and placed it gently on his dresser without ever meeting my gaze.  
My heart began to pound loudly in my head and frantic thoughts ran amok in my mind. 'Oh no! What did I do? He's always hated me; that must be it. He's afraid of me. Everything back there was just a joke. He doesn't love me.' Knowing tears were likely to come, I turned and started back towards my room.  
"Quatre." His beautifully powerful voice hid the uneasiness I later realized he must have felt. Duo could do that. He could have talked anyone into the depths of Hell, had he the desire to. I turned around slowly, for some reason thinking that I would startle him if I moved too quickly.  
He looked at me, really looked at me. I became belatedly aware that he hadn't called me by his pet name for me, Quat. Cold flashed through my body for a scant instant, and was replaced by a lingering heat. I can't remember being more scared, ever.  
I knew it was important, though, and forced myself to focus on Duo. He pulled a strand of chestnut hair over his right shoulder and twisted it around his forefinger. After he realized what he was doing, he threw the hair behind him and looked up at me. A fire of determination danced through his eyes.  
" I know I can love you better than that," he stated, half-pointing to my room.  
A smile, genuine albeit not wholly happy, spread across my face. And then I felt myself crying again. I shook my head right to left, and for the life of me felt like I was four years old again. I drew in a breath and let it out as a quiet laugh. "No."  
"Yes, Quat. You- you just don't deserve to have to cry. I don't wanna ever make you cry."  
"Duo," I bit my bottom lip for a hesitant moment, then continued, "Duo, you can't say things like that. If you wouldn't ever make me cry, wouldn't ever let me see your pain, you'd be lying to me. Part of you, part of me - Allah, part of all of us - is our pain. It's probably a larger part of you than any of us. That's why I love you, Duo, and why I respect you."  
Clearly confused, and on the verge of frustration, Duo blurted, "You love me because I suffer?!"  
I smiled knowingly and shook my head no; "It's not that you suffer. I love and respect you because you are strong enough to deal with you mountains of pain, and still be the great person you are."  
I looked into his eyes, and felt as though I was drowning in those endless violet pools. I saw there that he had known exactly what I meant; he just needed to hear me say it so he could believe it.  
I didn't think that selfish; actually I think it's legitimate. If everyone I'd ever loved was taken from me, I'd need assurance - every once in a while - that I wasn't going to be left alone.again.  
After a while, I saw Duo's posture change suddenly. Evidently, our conversation had turned into an awkward silence. I discarded the serious tone in my voice and asked, "So, how about that braid?"  
We both laughed and walked into his room. I sat on the edge of his bed with my legs spread apart, then patted the bed space between them. Duo leapt to the dresser, grabbing the brush, then settled on the floor with his head resting on the spot I had indicated.  
And I braided my beautiful Duo's hair as we sat in a beautiful sweet silence. 


End file.
